that is, the earl of Lincoln, the earl of Kildare, Francis lord Lovel, Martin Swart, and Sir Thomas Broughton; all making good the fight, without any ground given. Only of the lord Lovel there went a report, that he fled, and swam over Trent on horseback, but could not recover the farther side, by reason of the steepness of the bank, and so was drowned in the river. But another report leaves him not there, but that he lived long after in a cave or vault. The number that was slain in the field, was of the enemies part four thousand at the least; and of the King's part, one half of his vant-guard, besides many hurt, but none of name. There were taken prisoners, amongst others, the counterfeit Plantagenet, now Lambert Simnell again, and the crafty priest his tutor. For Lambert, the King would not take his life, both out of magnanimity, taking him but as an image of wax, that others had tempered and molded; and likewise out of wisdom, thinking that if he suffered death, he would be forgotten too soon; but being kept alive, he would be a continual spectacle, and a kind of remedy against the like inchantments of people in time · to come. For which cause he was taken into service in his court to a base office in his kitchen; so that, in a kind of mattacina of human fortune, he turned a broach, that had worn a crown; whereas fortune commonly doth not bring in a comedy or farce after a tragedy. And afterwards he was preferred to be one of the King's falconers. As to the priest, he was committed close prisoner, and heard of no more; the King loving to seal up his own dangers.

After the battle the King went to Lincoln, where he caused supplications and thanksgivings to be made for his deliverance and victory. And that his devotions might go round in circle, he sent his banner to be offered to our lady of Walsingham, where before he made his vows. And thus delivered of this so strange an engine, and new invention of fortune, he returned to his former confidence of mind; thinking now, that all his misfortunes had come at once. But it fell out unto him according to the speech of the common people in the beginning of his reign, that said, It was a token he

should reign in labour, because his reign began with a sickness of sweat. But howsoever the King thought himself now in a haven, yet such was his wisdom, as his confidence did seldom darken his foresight, especially in things near hand. And therefore, awakened by so fresh and unexpected dangers, he entered into due consideration, as well how to weed out the partakers of the former rebellion, as to kill the seeds of the like in time to come: and withal to take away all shelters and harbours for discontented persons, where they might hatch and foster rebellions, which afterwards might gather strength and motion. And first, he did yet again make a progress from Lincoln to the northern parts, though it were indeed rather an itinerary circuit of justice than a progress. For all along as he went, with much severity and strict inquisition, partly by martial law, and partly by commission, were punished the adherents and aiders of the late rebels. Not all by death, for the field had drawn much blood, but by fines and ransoms, which spared life, and raised treasure. Amongst other crimes of this nature, there was diligent inquiry made of such as had raised and dispersed a bruit and rumour, a little before the field fought, "that the rebels had "the day; and that the King's army was overthrown, "and the King fled." Whereby it was supposed that many succours, which otherwise would have come unto the King, were cunningly put off and kept back. Which charge and accusation, though it had some ground, yet it was industriously embraced and put on by divers, who having been in themselves not the best affected to the King's part, nor forward to come to his aid, were glad to apprehend this colour to cover their neglect and coldness, under the pretence of such discouragements. Which cunning nevertheless the King would not understand, though he lodged it, and noted it in some particulars, as his manner was.

But for the extirpating of the roots and causes of the like commotions in time to come, the King began to find where his shoe did wring him, and that it was his depressing of the house of York that did rankle and fester the affections of his people. And therefore being

now too wise to disdain perils any longer, and willing to give some contentment in that kind, at least in ceremony, he resolved at last to proceed to the coronation of his Queen. And therefore at his coming to London, where he entered in state, and in a kind of triumph, and celebrated his victory with two days of devotion, for the first day he repaired to Paul's, and had the hymn of Te Deum sung, and the morrow after he went in procession, and heard the sermon at the cross, the Queen was with great solemnity crowned at Westminster, the five and twentieth of November, in the third year of his reign, which was about two years after the marriage; like an old christening, that had stayed long for godfathers. Which strange and unusual distance of time made it subject to every man's note, that it was an act against his stomach, and put upon him by necessity and reason of state. Soon after, to shew that it was now fair weather again, and that the imprisonment of Thomas, marquis Dorset, was rather upon suspicion of the time, than of the man, he, the said marquis, was set at liberty, without examination or other circumstance. At that time also the King sent an ambassador unto Pope Innocent, signifying unto him this his marriage; and that now, like another Æneas, he had passed through the floods of his former troubles and travels, and was arrived unto a safe haven: and thanking his Holiness that he had honoured the celebration of his marriage with the presence of his ambassador; and offering both his person and the forces of his kingdom, upon all occasions, to do him service.

The ambassador making his oration to the Pope, in the presence of the cardinals, did so magnify the King and Queen, as was enough to glut the hearers. But then he did again so extol and deify the Pope, as made all that he had said in praise of his master and mistress seem temperate and passable. But he was very honourably entertained, and extremely much made on by the Pope: who knowing himself to be lazy and unprofitable to the Christian world, was wonderfully glad to hear that there were such echoes of him sounding in remote parts. He obtained also of the Pope a very just and

honourable bull, qualifying the privileges of sanctuary, wherewith the King had been extremely galled, in three points.

The first, that if any sanctuary man did by night, or otherwise, get out of sanctuary privily, and commit mischief and trespass, and then come in again, he should lose the benefit of sanctuary for ever after. The second, that howsoever the person of the sanctuary man was protected from his creditors, yet his goods out of sanctuary should not. The third, that if any took sanctuary for case of treason, the King might appoint him keepers to look to him in sanctuary.

The King also, for the better securing of his estate against mutinous and malecontented subjects, whereof he saw the realm was full, who might have their refuge into Scotland, which was not under key, as the ports were; for that cause rather than for any doubt of hos tility from those parts, before his coming to London, when he was at Newcastle, had sent a solemn ambassage unto James the third, King of Scotland, to treat and conclude a peace with him. The ambassadors were, Richard Fox, bishop of Exeter, and Sir Richard Edgcombe, comptroller of the King's house, who were honourably received and entertained there. But the King of Scotland labouring of the same disease that King Henry did, though more mortal, as afterwards appeared, that is, discontented subjects, apt to rise and raise tumult, although in his own affection he did much desire to make a peace with the King; yet finding his nobles averse, and not daring to displease them, concluded only a truce for seven years: giving nevertheless promise in private, that it should be renewed from time to time during the two Kings lives.

Hitherto the King had been exercised in settling his affairs at home. But about this time brake forth an occasion that drew him to look abroad, and to hearken to foreign business. Charles the eighth the French King, by the virtue and good fortune of his two immediate predecessors, Charles the seventh his grandfather, and Lewis the eleventh his father, received the kingdom of France in more flourishing and spread estate than it

had been of many years before; being redintegrate in those principal members, which anciently had been portions of the crown of France, and were afterward dissevered, so as they remained only in homage, and not in sovereignty, being governed by absolute Princes of their own, Anjou, Normandy, Provence, and Burgundy. There remained only Britain to be re-united, and so the monarchy of France to be reduced to the ancient terms and bounds,

King Charles was not a little inflamed with an ambition to re-purchase and re-annex that duchy: which his ambition was a wise and well-weighed ambition; not like unto the ambitions of his succeeding enterprises of Italy. For at that time, being newly come to the crown, he was somewhat guided by his father's counsels, counsels not counsellors, for his father was his own council, and had few able men about him. And that King, he knew well, had ever distasted the designs of Italy, and in particular had an eye upon Britain. There were many circumstances that did feed the ambition of Charles with pregnant and apparent hopes of success: the duke of Britain old, and entered into a lethargy, and served with mercenary counsellors, father of two only daughters, the one sickly and not like to continue; King Charles himself in the flower of his age, and the subjects of France at that time well trained for war, both for leaders and soldiers; men of service being not yet worn out since the wars of Lewis against Burgundy. He found himself also in peace with all his neighbour Princes. As for those that might oppose to his enter-, prise, Maximilian King of the Romans, his rival in the same desires (as well for the duchy, as the daughter) feeble in means; and King Henry of England as well somewhat obnoxious to him for his favours and benefits, as busied in his particular troubles at home. There was also a fair and specious occasion offered him to hide his ambition, and to justify his warring upon Britain; for that the duke had received and succoured Lewis, duke of Orleans, and other of the French nobility, which had taken arms against their King. Wherefore King Charles, being resolved upon that war, knew well he